


A Debt Repaid

by wickedspeed



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, because I apparently just love analyzing that short, just another take on Alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-25
Updated: 2019-04-25
Packaged: 2020-01-31 20:03:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18598441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wickedspeed/pseuds/wickedspeed
Summary: "In that moment, it occurred to Widowmaker just how easy it would be to kill the brunette.  After all, Tracer had willingly turned her back on a Talon agent; foolish in any case, but especially with one as deadly as Widowmaker."Very few cross paths with Widowmaker and make it out alive.So why didn't she kill Tracer that night in King's Row when she had the chance?





	A Debt Repaid

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I'm currently working on a new Overwatch series, but its posting date is unknown right now, so here's a little piece in the meantime. Thanks to all who have read my work, and hope you continue to enjoy it :)

It should have been an easy mission; do a bit of recon and stay out of sight.

However, she had made a rookie mistake: she had underestimated the abilities of Null Sector, and now Widowmaker was running through an unfamiliar city in a desperate attempt to lose her omnic pursuers.

Widowmaker rounded a corner, only to find herself face to face with a Bastion unit. There was the telltale sound of its guns beginning to fire up, and with no time to even think about grappling away, the sniper could do little but brace for the inevitable rain of bullets.

“Wotcher there!”

A hand seized her arm and pulled her into some hidden alley with unnatural speed just as the Bastion fired, the bullets striking the wall where she had been. Widowmaker’s brain struggled a bit to fully register what had just happened, and she looked over to see a young woman dressed in blue beside her.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked, fixing the cap on her head (which seemed sit in a permanently skewed fashion).

Widowmaker didn’t reply, her gaze instead falling on the insignia on the woman’s uniform.

Overwatch.

“What are you doin’ out ‘ere? It’s not safe, you know,” the brunette continued.

The sniper’s brow furrowed slightly. If this woman was Overwatch, then surely she should recognize the Talon insignia that Widowmaker wore, so why hadn’t she reacted? Could it be possible that this young cadet merely didn’t know they were naturally enemies?

“I’m Lena Oxton,” the woman continued, offering Widowmaker a hand. “Oh, bollocks, wait, I wasn’t ‘posed to say that! Uh, I’m Tracer!”

Widowmaker looked at the offered hand before she straightened up. “You shouldn’t be out on your own.”

Tracer’s brow furrowed at that, and she quickly scrambled to her feet as well. “You’re out ‘ere by yourself, and I saved you from that Bastion, yeah?”

“ _Oui_ , but now we must go our separate ways.”

Tracer let out an amused noise. “You’ll get lost again.”

Widowmaker’s head snapped towards the brunette at that, her golden eyes narrowing. “I was not lost—“

“You looked lost.”

“And I suppose you know your way, is that it?”

Tracer smiled in a crooked way that almost made Widowmaker feel something. “You bet! King’s Row is my home!” Her face fell a bit as she added, “Though it doesn’t look much like ‘ome right now…”

The sadness and defeat in her features tugged at some emotions that Widowmaker could scarcely recall having felt before. Her thoughts turned to the streets of Paris, a place she struggled to keep from her memories. “I know the feeling of losing home…”

A short silence passed between them, broken by the sound of gunfire and approaching footsteps.

“Looks like we’re going to ‘ave to work together to get out of this,” Tracer said, two guns emerging from the holsters on her arms. “Are you with me?”

Widowmaker paused a moment before she nodded.

-/-

Seven years had passed since her last visit to King’s Row, though it was much quieter now. The city had recovered and rebuilt since the Uprising, and the once war torn streets had returned to their peaceful state. From her perch on the rooftops, Widowmaker surveyed the city, holding her rifle close as she secretly relished in these quiet moments before her mission.

“Have you located the target?”

Reaper’s voice came harshly through her comm., breaking the silence.

“ _Oui_ ,” Widowmaker replied, straightening up and dropping to a lower area of the roof, stepping over one of the unconscious guards as she approached the edge. The sniper lowered her visor as she scanned the crowd, easily picking out Mondatta. He had yet to address the assembled, but she could see him preparing to do so. The sniper was about to turn away when her gaze fell on a familiar figure in the crowd.

_Tracer, what are you doing here, you foolish girl?_

It was Tracer, brown hair still spikier than necessary, a predictably cheerful expression on her face, and clothing choices that had become more obnoxious. Widowmaker knew that she shouldn’t care; after all, this mission was a simple one. Quick as Tracer was, the sniper knew she could eliminate Mondatta and be gone before the Overwatch agent even realized she was there.

Widowmaker should have known better.

“Trying to crash another party luv?”

That was the problem with Tracer, one that Widowmaker could never understand; by now, the brunette had to know they were on opposite sides, yet she still acted as though they were merely sparring partners. Oh, Tracer would do her best to keep Widowmaker from completing any of Talon’s objectives, but there never seemed to be any real malice behind her actions. Perhaps that was partly Widowmaker’s fault; after all, while she took shots at Tracer, it was mainly to keep her at bay. If she wanted Tracer dead, that would be easy enough to do, but the thought of actually killing the brunette for good… where was the fun in that?

And then Tracer threw the pulse bomb. In her defense, Widowmaker had held her rifle to the girl’s head (though she had never had any intention of pulling the trigger), but a pulse bomb was another story. Tracer only carried one of those on her person at a time, and from the intel they had gathered, she was reluctant to ever use it.

_Now she wants to use it against me? We’ll see about that._

One shot, and the pulse bomb was destroyed, sending Tracer flying off the building. Widowmaker quickly followed, knowing this would be her only chance to eliminate Mondatta without Tracer’s interference.

_After all, self-preservation is a strong instinct, even for you, cherie._

“It looks like the party is over.”

Tracer’s eyes widened at those words, and she ran to the edge of the roof, looking down at the chaotic scene below. In that moment, it occurred to Widowmaker just how easy it would be to kill the brunette. After all, Tracer had willingly turned her back on a Talon agent; foolish in any case, but especially with one as deadly as Widowmaker.

In an instant, Tracer had tackled her, bringing them both down. Tracer pinned Widowmaker down harshly, her head hanging over the edge of the roof.

“WHY?” In that one shout, Widowmaker could see anger and pain in Tracer’s expression that she had never seen before. “Why would you do this?”

In that instant, Tracer seemed to realize that their interactions were more than just playful banter; whatever the brunette had believed was between them had been shattered. Widowmaker could do little more than just laugh; Tracer had always been just too naïve, too unwilling to see the world for what it really was.

The sound of a Talon vehicle rising behind them caught Widowmaker’s attention, and as Tracer turned to look, the sniper quickly glanced down, judging the distance to the roof beneath them. It would hurt, yes, but it was better than the alternative. Tracer was too valuable to Overwatch, too much of a pressure point for Talon to get their hands on.

_More valuable to Overwatch than I ever was._

Widowmaker seized the collar of Tracer’s jacket, pulling the brunette close. She wanted to tell Tracer that this was for her own good, that her debt from King’s Row seven years ago was finally about to be repaid, but all she said instead was “ _Adieu cherie_.”

Tracer didn’t quite seem to comprehend just what that meant, and Widowmaker didn’t give her time to think about it before she fell backwards over the edge, slamming Tracer into the wall and letting her fall to the roof below. The sniper watched and waited until she saw Tracer move again before she turned away, picking up her dropped rifle.

_A life for a life; it would appear the Universe has a sense of humor, binding us together this way._

Tracer would recover and come to hate her for this, no doubt, but if it meant Lena Oxton stayed alive, a colorful character in her otherwise muted world… Widowmaker could live with that.


End file.
